


Wedding Bells

by YourKnightOfRage



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, PWP, Post-Sburb/Sgrub, Wedding, cute with sex to follow, first time getting through writing porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 04:39:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17155469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourKnightOfRage/pseuds/YourKnightOfRage
Summary: Dave and Karkat get married and go on a beautiful winter location for the honey moon.





	Wedding Bells

**Author's Note:**

  * For [commaAbuser](https://archiveofourown.org/users/commaAbuser/gifts).



With chiffon skies overhead and soft snowflakes still swirling down from it, you stand in an opening in a forest, holding your groom’s hands. The dark bark on the trees would be a stark contrast against the white surroundings, were it not for the lights sitting on the branches like  leaves.

Greens, blues and reds cast halos on the ground and highlight the flakes still dancing towards the coated ground. Your breaths come out in puffy colourful clouds, carrying your words to be lost in your groom’s deep burgundy jacket because you refuse to directly look at him, optioning to look at the thin branches and their precious rings keeping the place from darkness.

****

You do not know why you can’t seem to look at Dave, you know he looks absolutely great: he is wearing black dress trousers, a white shirt with a black papillon and a burgundy jacket that looks like it’s made of velvet, with a black shawl lapel. Maybe the lapel is made of satin or silk, judging by the shimmer in it, but you are not quite sure. After all, you’re not the men’s formal jacket expert.

It doesn’t matter.

****

What matters is that he looks great and you know that in this moment you are supposed to look him in the eyes, he even left behind his sunglasses for this moment, for you, and you can’t look him in the eye as your endless spiral of words keeps on going and going. You know your vows so well, you wrote them yourself and you edited them non stop, you read them over and over again and you memorized every last word. You managed to find the perfect balance between fully expressing your feelings for that idiotic sac of human meat and not humiliating yourself with an excessively cheesy and cliched speech in front of all your friends and pretty much every person or troll you have ever cared about ever.

****

You went off script entirely three words in.

****

And now you keep on speaking because that’s what you do best, and you are barely registering what you are saying on this day which is supposed to crown your love to Dave and you just can’t stop cursing your past self because he just had to change everything up, didn’t he?

****

No, you are better than this. You want to be better than this. You want to at least look your human groom in the eye as he becomes your human husband. At least if he feels like crawling out of his skin because of your words you will be able to see it and hopefully shut up before he changes his mind about the wedding all together.

****

When you finally raise your eyes it is nice to notice that he is not looking for the quickest way out of the situation that he put himself in by explaining to you what a wedding is and then proposing.

He does not seem to be considering leaving.

****

He is looking right back at you, even offers a small smile when your eyes meet causing you to stutter.

There is a faint ringing in your ears and your face is getting warmer. You need to pick it back up, manage to start talking again. You are not eight sweeps old anymore, and this is not your first time noticing you have feelings for Dave; you need to grow up and start talking again. And the next words out of your mouth are so stupid, the most stupid.

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you have all of the stupid, all of it.

****

“... And I am so happy for this moment, but neither of us thought this through because it’s really fucking cold and seeing our cases of uncontrollable verbal diarrhea everybody here will be double dead of hypothermia before our vows are over,” You keep on talking, but are soon interrupted. Not with words, but Dave has been holding your hands, his palms the only source of heat for you and he takes the comment as a request for more: he draws your hands to his chest.

****

Through the layers of fabric you feel his heart beat frantically as if it were trying to break his rib cage and jump into your now unready to catch it palms. Dave makes you close your hands in fists and then proceeds to put his hands over yours and draw them to his lips. He gives your right hand a quick kiss before blowing hot air on them and you are left speechless.

****

The gesture is just so tender and intimate, you forget the few people watching intently and only now you realize that he has been in this space all this time and now that you have joined him it’s the two of you and no one else and that’s enough. You are alone and suddenly the cold cannot bite at you anymore.

****

He blows a few times, lowers your hands to his chest again and a few seconds later you can see the realization down on him in the form of his face becoming redder and brighter than the lights still hanging on the trees.

****

You don’t care if you left your vows mid sentence. There is nothing you can do but let out a hiccup and feel the hot trail of pale tears as they roll down your cheeks. You are almost breathless, but what does it matter? Dave is right in front of you and he is still holding your hands and you have to tell him, you must. If you do not tell him you might implode, so, with a shaking voice and tripping lungs, with watery eyes never wavering from his, you say:

“I love you so much.”

****

For a moment it's as if his heart stopped furiously running under you, for a moment all is right, and you feel it start up again fast as light, but much less frantic and furious.

“... I love you too.”

****

Dave leaves his mouth open, as if trying to look for more words to give you, but coming up short, empty.

A few more heartbeats pass before Rose, the officiator, declares that you may kiss.

****

It’s wonderful, not even the fact that it was another person telling you to kiss could remind you about the people watching and listening and wiping tears out of their eyes. You and your broom kiss and- you are husbands now.

****

The kiss is short, and delicate, innocent. There is no want or lust behind it, just love and a promise, all the passion of the years before and all the love you both feel right now and all the care you promise to each other in the future. His lips are wet with chapstick and still a bit cracked underneath and it’s wonderful, it’s beautiful and you will forever remember that warm slightly floreal smell from the perfume that you just know he picked up for this day.

****

He is your husband now and you are his.

****

You pull away into cheers and laughter and whistles and suddenly you are reminded of how hard it is for the two of you to do stuff like this, to be too affectionate, but not even John’s voice could wipe the smile off your face, not even the countless sets of eyes that meet you could make you drop your husband’s hand.

********  
  


The rest of the celebration is blurrier, it is somewhat quicker and it seems to never end and you are too filled with energy to sleep but also way too tired to deal with anyone but your Dave.

There was music and food served up in one single table. There was laughter and gentle touches and smiles and it was an excuse for you and all your friends to hang out in fancy clothing and do all the things you always do when you are all gathered in one place. It barely even feels like it is something not extraordinary, but now you are married.

Married and in love and incredibly sleepy as you make your way to catch a plane because apparently the best part of getting married is the honeymoon.

********  
  


You and Dave are supposed to spend a week in a chateau surrounded by mountains completely covered in snow and lakes and hot springs and warm fireplaces. The place is supposed to be small and comfortable and you will get to be as lovey and cute and as clingy as you want with your husband because nobody is there to see you.

****

The promise holds up well, you are surrounded by miles and miles of fresh air and soft sounds and the cold mountains sting a little bit, they make your cheeks feel tingly and maybe just a little bit wrong, just a little bit numb, but you still like it. Because Dave is there to cover your cheeks and lips and face in kisses. Most of them you cannot feel, but the fact that Dave would take the time to do that, and to make you feel special makes a different kind of warmth spread throughout you, and that is just as good if not better to you.

****

Four days are spent waking up late and cuddling, seeing who can annoy the other the most with his morning breath. Every now and again you do something special, like go see the sun rise from the inside of a cave where icy stalactites cut the morning light into a plethora of colours and waves and you both are left speechless for once in your life as you stare up on the walls with gaping mouths.

****

One time you tried taking skiing lessons. They did not end up well.

Even the bunny trail had both of you slamming face first in the snow, hitting your selves with the skiis and having them stick against you in ways that did not break skin only thanks to the excessive layers of clothes on your bodies.

Having five year old humans pass by as if born on skiis while you ate snow did not help your mood.

****

But it was all nice, it was all insufferable at times, but your insufferable idiot was always with you, so it was nice, it was wonderful.

****

The fourth day you spend in the snow, making angels and trying to build a snowman, until you realize that your husband has made your innocent creature into a dick and you are forced to squish it down. Dave tries again and you do it again, giving your husband a death glare as you furiously step on the once white snow.

The third time it’s not that easy, because you turn to look at Dave and spit approximately 5000 words about how he cannot keep on doing this, but in doing so you turn your back on the dick.

Of course that is the one time you slip on the cold ice and fall ass first on the phallic construction, actually smashing and destroying it.

****

“Funny that would happen ‘cause that’s exactly what how I feel after we fuck, karkat, every time, you just straight up destroy my dick-”

****

You take some of the snow from under your ass and throw it at him. He raises his hand and even turns a little to the side, but the snow just crashes on him, clinging to his clothes.

The words do not stop coming out of his mouth like a rancid torrent of sexual annoyance.

****

“Every time I’m like wow it’s destroyed now, I will never be able to want sex again that was so good my dick perished and every time it’s worth it i-”

“Stop talking, oh my God what did I do to deserve-”

“-Not sexy at all to describe it as your dick being completely destroyed, but it's still accurate bro-”

****

You end up just screaming and, with a fistful of snow in hand, tackle him.

You would be worried about hurting him in normal circumstances, but the white that crunches around his head reassures you it won’t be a problem so you start shoving the snow down his collar.

Up till then he’d been laughing and now screams join it. He ends up shoving you off and shaking his jacket to rid himself of the snow.

****

Needless to say that after all that you two can not wait to get to the cabin Dave rented and start feeling your extremities again.

****

It’s quite pleasant, feeling the heart envelop you like a light slime, effectively covering your skin up and instantly warning it up. Dave has to take his sunglasses off because they fogged up too much for him to see jack and the warmth priks your skin in the best way possible. You just know Dave’s skin must be covered in goosebumps.

****

But that’s not enough to warm you up. Not really. The heat is a pleasant feeling but it is detached from your core. This kind of  cold got into your bones and your flesh, leaving you pretty much frozen on the inside.

****

It fucking sucks.

****

“Okay, how about I go get us some nice dry clothes while you start up the fireplace?”

You are already taking off your scarf and hat while Dave asks that, your hair is now somehow messier than usual, with static making parts of it stand up.

****

“Do you want to shower? Maybe it’ll make you feel warm-”

“Nah man. It would help but my scalp is already getting dry and itchy as fuck so like-”

****

Dave keeps on opening and closing his hands, probably to get the blood flowing in them again. His jaw is shaking so hard you can hear his teeth clank together, and every time you feel a little bit guiltier about shoving snow down his shirt.

“You don't need to wet your think pan.”

“I forgot my shower cap.” He barely remembers to take off his boots before smearing snow all over the cabin on his way to the bedroom. “Besides, it really feels weird to not have my hair wet when I get out it's like I didn't get ckeaned up at all.” By the time he finishes his sentence Dave is shouting from the other side of the small cabin.

As for yourself you have given up reasoning with him and have made your way to the fireplace.

****

Starting a fire is really fucking simple with the aid of a white cube that smells like absolute death. The first day in you were curious and made the mistake of smelling one- never again. It burned like hell and you couldn't smell quite right until the next day. You almost cried at how much it burned.

****

The damned thing is good for starting fires though.

****

The fireplace is mostly not needed, but you like the smell and sound of burning wood, plus, it’s nice to have one singular place radiating heat.

****

The thing about being out in the snow isn't much the cold or the way in which your clothes will inevitably get wet and stick uncomfortably to you, but the way in which the cold drains your energy and you don't even notice.

****

Once the first release of warmth is over and the sudden awareness of just how cold you were passes tiredness settles in you like molasses, you can’t be bothered to hold your shoulders straight or tight and are barely even blowing at the flames to help them start up as they scar your eyes. You really want to rest and get rid of the persistent tremors in you.

****

Dave doesn't wait long before showing up, maybe because he didn't change his clothes. Your husband would rather make sure you are comfortable than provide to himself right away, and the concept is so sweet you just have to give him a quick peck on the lips when you take the clothes.

****

Going to your room to change is useless: you have seen each other naked and you are way too tired to care about modesty, so you slip on Dave’s sweatpants and your thickest sweater and make your way into Dave’s arms.

****

Or rather, you would, if you didn't have to hang your clothes as close to the fireplace as possible to dry them you would have a say in what music Dave puts on rather than hear the click of it his phone being dropped on the floor as soft music starts playing. And you would have a say in how you arrange yourselves, but instead when you turn to look at him he’s sitting on the ground with his back presses to the couch and a fuzzy blanket thrown over his legs.

****

Your husband lifts a corner up, and gestures with his hand for you to join him, and who are you to deny him?

Your movements are sluggish and tense at the same time, in other words: you drop gracelessly and awkwardly fumble with the blanket and your husband as you find a comfortable and warm position.

You end up trembling with your face on your husband’s shoulder, his arm around your shoulders and the blanket covering your head.

He says something along the lines of “I know, right?” But you don't want to answer for once.

****

Your breathing and your combined body heats are making a nice warm bubble under the blanket and you can feel the last frozen bits in you slowly melt.

Sure, soon enough the heat will feel like too much and you’ll be poking your head out of the blanket with rosy cheeks and a puff looking for fresh air.

For the moment however, you feel yourself start chirping in a soft happy tone as Dave’s fingers start idly rubbing your shoulder.

****

The fact that you would eventually puff out of the blanket was predictable and honestly a given, what you hadn’t seen coming was that Dave would let his arm lower to your waist before that happened only to pull you on his lap as soon as he has a chance.

You don’t really oppose to that, his ass may be boney, but it is still more comfortable than the floor he decided to sit on for whatever reason.

****

At first the position is kind of uncomfortable, you need some adjusting because your leg got in the way and your teeth clacked almost painfully against your dumbass of a husband’s shoulder. You use the time you need to adjust to pinch him and put your weight in the wrong places just because you want to annoy him and you know that you can do so without fear with him.

****

You end up straddling his hips, the blanket pooled at your waist and your husband’s hands on your hips. From this position you have the fire’s heat coming directly on your back, nice and just a little bit too intense. It feels just a little bit like your back is on fire, but you know your front would feel like it’s freezing. On the first night you two turned the fire on you kept on spinning on yourself in order to distribute the heat, until Dave said you looked like a roasting pig.

You just couldn’t bear the combined discomfort of being on LOHAC on one side and on LOFAF on the other, was that too unordinary?!

****

But this time you can’t complain, and even if you wanted to move you are not sure you would because on your front you have your Dave, his body heat barely enough but very much pleasant.

****

“Hey.”

“Hello Vantas.”

“I’ll have you know, it’s Vantas-Strider now.”

He smiles at you, just for a second. “Oh wow, so you’re married? And what  would your husband think if he found you like this?”

****

Your faces are not even inches apart, especially with how Dave is leaning up a little, as if his direction, his momento started from his mouth. With every word the air from his lungs brushes against your lips and you can feel yourself sucking one in before you can even think about it.

****

“Oh, I have no idea what you mean, mister. I’m just trying to stay warm.”

“So you only want heat from me?”

“Yeah-”

“I’ve never felt so used, and here I was thinking we ha-”

“You should. No feelings he-”

By this point you are talking over each other, not really listening to whatever nonsense the other spurs. There is a jovial air between you, and it’s not much air, but what can you do when the space where the air is supposed to be keeps on getting smaller and smaller?

****

Literally nobody is surprised when Dave finally kisses you. You would bet he can feel the smile in your lips just like you can feel his.

His hands find their way to your back, his thumbs rubbing small circles in your lower back while your hands are just hanging at the side of his face. You have crossed your arms around his head and only kind of loosen them when the kiss breaks with an almost cartoonish sound and you lower your head.

****

With Dave’s taste still lingering in your mouth and your nose pressed to his neck it’s pretty hard not to feel a little bit engulfed in him.

Everything is just warm and salty with a faint aftertaste of cinnamon and apple. You know Dave thinks you don’t notice, but you can also feel a trace of the coconut shower bath you use, but you let it slide, because his hands are keeping up the same movements as before, but he’s doing it under your shirt now.

****

Your chirping is almost full cicada mode, as Dave would describe it, and at this point in the relationship you are way past trying to cover it up.

You are comfortable and happy and so in love that not even all the characters in your romance novels together could compete and it is all because of Dave, your Dave.

****

How could  you possibly not kiss his neck when literally all you have to do is move your head a little bit. Thanking him for how happy he makes you and showing him how good you feel around him is important, sure, but nothing will make you move from your comfortable position anytime soon.

****

Dry kisses with soft bites sprinkled in turn just a bit wetter when Dave hums and moves his head to the side a litte. There is just so much space you could reach.

One of your hands finds its way in his weirdly soft human hair while the other slides down his chest to rest on it.

****

You find yourself taking back what you believed to be a fact when you’re back to kissing Dave soon enough, which means that you did move your head.

****

You like kissing Dave.

At first it was maybe a bit awkward, especially as you tried to figure out a way to not reduce his fragile lips to a pulp with your superiorly sharp troll teeth.

Now it feels like it’s the one natural thing for you to do with your mouth.

****

You don’t need to be running your mouth, or to even think, for that matter, when you’re kissing Dave. It’s like floating and being full to the  brim in the best way possible, warm in a way, to a point that no fire could archive.

Kissing Dave feels… right.

****

You only notice that you’ve started rocking gently when you part briefly from Dave just to tilt your head to the left before meeting his lips again.

Dave’s hands are on your hips steadying you just so, the fire crackles every now and again, and despite the soft music still playing somewhere in the distance, the one sound filling the room is the wet one of your lips, your occasional breath coming out in a gentle sigh.

****

You stop your rocking only when Dave’s hands leave your hips, starting to trail their way up your sides, under your sweater and actually lifting it up.

Oh, ok.

****

You break the kiss to help him take the sweater off.

“This could’ve been better if we just went to the bedroom. Or on the couch at least.”

“You say that as if I were the one that planned this out and initiated it.”

“You are!”

In response Dave lifts his feet bending his legs. In other words he throws you off your balance and you find yourself bracing yourself against his shoulders.

****

“I am not the one that started macking on my neck and dry humping me, Karkles.”

“And who put me in this position?”

As you two speak Dave keeps on giving you little squeezes on the belly. You suppose that he does it to keep his hands busy, but there is a  small chance that he might be doing it to one day find a smot that makes you squirm like the lightest touch on his belly does him. You can only dream that he one day understands that you are not ticklish.

****

“If you don’t wanna we don’t-”

“Shut up I do want to.”

****

You try to get back to kissing him, but he’s laughing too hard for that. You’re pretty sure the mood is ruined and you should start looking for that sleepy and tired feeling you had at some point. 

****

But then Dave all but leaps at you, in a much more lustful kiss now that he knows it’s okay, his hands decidedly going for your grub scars and you are caught so off guard that for a second your hands shoot up, as if to show that you are unarmed.

You eventually lower your hands to cup his face, letting shivers run through you from his fingers.

****

The feeling of someone touching your grub scars is difficult to describe. It’s pleasant, definitely. Absolutely, but not in the way that makes heat pool in your lower abdomen an makes you think that your skin is on fire and you’ll die if Dave doesn’t touch  you as soon as possible.

****

No, this is a different type of good. It makes you feel aware of every inch of your skin, it makes you feel as if your skin were not big enough and your head spins just a little, but maybe that’s just from Dave’s tongue slipping in your mouth when you moaned earlier.

Starting the rocking up again would definitely be one of the things you really wanna do, but as it stands, Dave is pushing you to lay on your back and you really are trusting him here because you go down with your hands still on him, so if he drops you you’ll fall hard.

****

“Fuck outta here, blanket.” 

You lift your hips to make the throwing the blanket away much easier. You would’ve liked it better if he’d opened it up under you, carpet burns are a bitch, but it doesn’t matter right now. What matter is the fact that your husband is not kissing you again or touching you at all ‘cause he’s taking the chance to take off his shirt before getting back to you.

****

You like the small touches, the lingering kisses as he makes his way down your torso with a blow of cold air addressed to your grub scars just to make you squirm a little. The small hesitation when edging your waistband with his fingers.

You like the way looks up at you before taking the next step every time, though you are not certain if he does it because he wants your permission, or because he wants to see your expression or whatever else.

You love it when he dips his head to pay attention to your nook.

****

He starts out slowly, neither of you feels the need to rush any of this, there is pleasure and desire behind your movements, but it is not like the first few times you were together when a rush of passion would take you over and everything had to be fast because you wanted each other right then.

****

You have each other now, you can breathe and still get all this.

****

So Dave goes slow.

He takes his time with his tongue, teasing gently the folds of your nook, letting you feel the heat and promise of him, not going in much more than needed to collect some of the moisture from inside.

He takes his time with his arms coming up from under your bottom and resting on your thighs.

****

This is what causes that type of pleasure in you, the one that pulls sharply in your abdomen and makes you sigh out your husband’s name.

****

That’s when he looks up at you again. He takes a second to focus fully on your face, kisses you just above the pelvis and… smiles.

When he goes back to your nook he does so with intense touches, a fervor to it. He has you arching your back off the ground with a sharp inhale.

****

That’s where his hands on your thighs come into play: he’s using them to keep you down, to keep at least your hips down, his fingers pressing down just hard enough that if your skin were as delicate as a human’s you’d have bruises in the shape of his fingerprints.

****

He alternates between wide swipes and slight sucks and you are whining and breathing hard pretty quickly.

And then he makes the mistake of taking one hand of your legs. It’s not really a mistake, he’s using his fingers to help you stretch- a nook is really not meant to deal with something as thick and stiff as a human bulge, so it takes some patience to prepare you properly.- and dips his fingers in, to press hard against your shame globes.

****

It’s like electricity, pure pleasure shooting through you, all your muscles tense almost painfully and then release as your vision starts coming back to you.

In the brief seconds when your vision was out your now unprovisioned leg closed, locking Dave in place. Even when your vision returns, you don’t have the force or time to feel guilty as you start grinding down on his face. 

Fuck,  you even dip your hand in his blonde hair just to get a better grip, to try and get more.

****

It just feels good and you want more, your breathing is getting harder and less regular by the second and you have completely lost control of your mouth as you keep on babbling about how good it feels and how much you adore him. At some point Dave taps on your thigh a few times and you know you’re supposed to let go of him, you know that’s what he means, but you’re so fucking close, it feel good to just use him for a little bit.

****

The pressure is building up in you, you’re releasing so much genetic material that you can feel it run down your nook and probably reach the carpet under you. You feel like you’re exploding in the best way possible. You feel your insides pull painfully, the air knocked right out of your lungs.

****

You finally let go of poor Dave, who breathes in like a man that just narrowly avoided drowning and you feel your bulge start to squirm looking for heat.

Dave is coughing and trying to laugh at the same time.

****

“Why hello there, little guy.” He clear his voice, it comes out just a bit steadier afterwords. “Glad it took me almost dying for me to see you again.”

“You weren’t going to fucking die Dave-”

“Do you think it would’ve been heroic? I feel this could’ve been the one time I got offed for good, Kar.” He has that smug, self satisfied smile as he says all that. You because he’s making his way up again as he speaks, and you get a full view of it on his red tinted face.

****

He even tries to kiss you, as if you’d ever let him do it after he’s been eating you out. You would sooner agree to not have sex for months on end than taste yourself like that. Fuck that.

****

“No- Dave- Fuck off out of my face.”

“Aw, please, just a quick peck, you know i need my sugar-”

“I swear I’m going to get a divorce. Don’t try me.”  Dave chuckles, but does not let up. You guess extreme problems require extreme measures.

It’s a bit difficult to roll you two over when Dave is pressing down on you, but you still manage, thanks to him being pretty focused on other tasks.

Any protest he might have had dies on his lips as you finally pay some attention to his boner, finally relieving some pressure.

****

This is probably the best position to use when you want to avoid Dave’s lips.

****

Well, one of the best positions.

****

You let your bulge wrap around Dave’s dick for just a little bit to make sure it’s nice and wet. Your bulge is pretty fucking happy about it, some heat, some  friction. It always feels just a bit weird, not bad, but not really quite right, so you’d rather avoid doing this to actually come, but it’s a nice and efficient way to get things started. 

****

The little “Fuck.” that Dave drags out makes you feel pretty fucking happy, you’ll admit that much, but you are looking for more frequent sounds, more ragged breaths. 

Once you think he’s ready you place your hands on his chest and exhale as you slowly seat yourself. 

****

Dave squeezes your wrists. It hurts a bit, but his hips are twitching upwards and into you and your nook needs just a little bit more to adjust, and you whine trying to do so under your breath, and Dave groans, and God, how could you have lived this long without being this full?

****

You need a few seconds before doing anything, Dave knows this and he’s trying to stay still. It’s a valiant effort you’ll give him that.

His death grip loosens up some, he starts massaging your wrists slightly pretty apologetically, you use the lighter grip to pull away some.

****

You are almost ready to start moving like he likes it, but not quite.

So you lean back, bracing yourself with an arm holding you steady up and start moving in tiny circles.

You’re pretty much on full view for Dave like this. There’s no way for you to hide, and you’re showing him all there is to see: From your blown out pupils and the way you bite your lower lip to the red stains your bulge leaves against your stomach.

****

You’re not ashamed for a single second as you watch him, as you see his eyes drink you in to the very last drop.

****

You even like it, hah! Take that past you.

****

You can’t really look at him for long though, because soon enough your eyes roll back as  you moan in pleasure. Like this his cock rubs insistently against your shame globes. The same ones that are already made pretty tight by your bulge’s base pressing them to your nook’s walls. 

It’s almost overwhelming.

****

“Oh my God. Please, Karkat, please I think my dick will explode in the least fucking sexy way known to mankind, please just- Jesus fuck. Please stop teasing. Like, I know you’re not but- I need- Please- Just a little bit- I-”

****

You eventually start moving like Dave wants you to.

Eventually you put your hands on Dave’s chest again because the noises he’s making and the friction you you’ve learned to need is easier to get with your weight there.

Eventually Dave’s hands settle on your hips and his snap up as you come down and you want to scream every time.

****

Honestly you’re pretty much done when his hand comes up to your bulge.

****

For a second you feel him inside of you, hot liquid meant to fill you as he cries out your name, locks up all over, even squeezes you a bit too tight.

And then his is washed out when your seed flaps open up spilling genetic material and making your vision go completely white for a few heartbeats.

****

Distantly, you feel Dave helping you lay down on him, getting even more genetic material on you.

You need a good tall glass of water and a shower, and you want cuddles and his warmth. You want to tell him how much you love him and you want to sleep and to facepalm yourself for fucking ruining a carpet in a rented cabin of all places.

****

You will probably do all of that, eventually. For the moment you let Dave hold you as you both catch your breath. 

****

Fuck, you’re happy you’re married to this one.

**Author's Note:**

> So. This is the first time I've managed to finish writing a sex scene and yo, I'm aware that it aint the best, but I'm still proud of myself for finishing it.
> 
> I'd like to thank Orrin for having such a good prompt for the Secret Sufferer request.
> 
> Also, for the love of God plz comment if yall got something to say about this fic. Comments are what i feed on and breathe in and no-one wants me to die, right?


End file.
